Sunday, February 4, 2018

Mansionhenge, Home Of The Hillmomba Guidestones

I'm pretty sure you've heard of Stonehenge, and anybody with a skosh of conspiracy theory inquisitiveness has probably also heard of the Georgia Guidestones. But you probably don't know about Mansionhenge, Home of the Hillmomba Guidestones.

See it there? In the front yard/field of the Mansion? It sprung up overnight. What's that? You don't see anything? You may have to zoom in. See? Three orbs. Take a gander at this far-off closeup of one:

The Hillmomba Guidestones didn't so much spring up overnight, as late midmorning on Tuesday. When Mrs. Hillbilly Mom flung them there from the front porch. She didn't have time to engrave any special commandments on them. Time was of the essence.

Oh, Mansionhenge, Home of the Hillmomba Guidestones, IS ancient. And just slightly mysterious. It's made of three oranges. ANCIENT oranges! Left from Christmas! You know how oranges are. They don't ever rot. Don't decay. Last forever. Shrink and petrify. UNLESS they're left in a Christmas stocking on accident, where they will turn white and gooshy and possibly sprout mold with three days of Christmas past.

Thing is...there were FOUR oranges in the Christmas stockings. One each in the stockings of The Pony, Genius, Genius's Friend, and Farmer H. Santa doesn't fill a stocking for Mrs. HM, you know. Not even with coal. Which might lead her to change her evil ways. Or not.

Anyhoo...THREE oranges appeared on the kitchen counter the day after Christmas. The fourth one has never been found. None of the guys profess a fondness for oranges. It's a tradition. It's always been a race to see who can get rid of theirs first. "Oh. An orange. I don't like oranges. Do you want mine? Well. What am I supposed to DO with it? Here. You take it. I guess I'll just set it here for now."

The dogs are not even curious. I can throw potatoes off the back porch, and they will appear in the front yard within hours. Eggs? Those dogs carry them around like a new toy, before, like a new toy, destroying them and eating part of it. The dogs haven't touched the oranges.

I'm pretty sure those oranges will be there for many years to come. Unless Farmer H runs over them with the riding lawnmower. And uses them as an excuse to buy a new one. There are still several months until mowing season, though.

NOW OPEN! Mansionhenge, Home of the Hillmomba Guidestones.


River said...

If they get run over by the riding mower, the seeds will be exposed and ight just bury themselves a little in the dirt and soon you'll have a whole forest of baby oranges trees. Which will produce lots of oranges that nobody wants. You'll have to set u a fruit stand and sell them to tourists who come to visit your Mansionhenge.

Hillbilly Mom said...

If ONLY! They might start to sprout, but I'm pretty sure winter will kill them. Thought of having lots of oranges that nobody wants makes me smile, and think that maybe I'm catching on to this whole IRONY thing.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Not to worry, should a spout arise and begin to grow ..... the mower will snap them down! I know these things. I am wise in the ways of men and machine!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Heh, heh! You are SO right! That's exactly what happened to Young Genius's tree that he brought home from school on Arbor Day, and lovingly planted in the front yard with Farmer H. Who even had the nerve to give that boy a dream before dashing it: "Just think. Your little tree will be here long after we're gone, making shade for the front yard."